


These Pretty Pleasures

by cathybites



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>another one from <a href="http://panda-check.livejournal.com/193686.html?thread=1112726#t1112726">the kink meme</a>: <i>Following the Hawks' 7-4 win over the Canucks, Patrick Sharp eventually gives in to *insert random teammate here* and lets him come all over his pretty face.</i> because, really. it's a <a href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l1gd15rZYj1qb3gy6o1_500.jpg">pretty</a> <a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l1b4sjKaJ41qzunaao1_400.jpg">pretty</a> face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Pretty Pleasures

Patrick doesn't know how he gets in these situations, he really doesn't. Sure, there's usually a lot of alcohol involved, and, okay. _Maybe_ Adam has the maddeningly annoying ability to talk him into anything, but really. He's smarter than this. He swears he is.

But all the smarts in the world don't mean a thing, not when he's kneeling on the floor of Adam's hotel room, bare-chested and watching Adam strip his own shirt off. Patrick's heart pounds in his chest. He fidgets, hands curling into fists on his thighs.

Adam raises an eyebrow at his movement. "Keep still, Sharpie."

Adam's voice is low, and it sets off something hot and shivering inside of Patrick. It makes him feel a little out of control, and he pushes back. "This is fuckin' ridiculous, Bur."

"Don't remember asking for your opinion. You ever win a bet, then you can give it to me."

"Fuck you, man. I scored a goal."

"Had to be the game-winner."

"I don't remember anything about--"

He's cut off by Adam's hand fisting in his hair, tilting his head up, a finger pressed against his mouth. The words just fall away and die, and Patrick has to fight to keep from swaying forward, from sucking Adam's finger into his mouth. Adam stares down at him, holding him at bay. The finger against his mouth moves, hand sliding to the side, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. Patrick's eyes shut, and Adam pats the side of his face. "Good boy."

Patrick will deny to his dying day the effect those words have on him, the way they make him want to just roll over and give everything up to Adam. He shivers all over, cock swelling in anticipation of what Adam does next.

Adam's fingers leave his hair, but it's not until he hears the quiet _zzzt_ of a zipper that Patrick opens his eyes. He watches as Adam tugs his pants down, just enough that he can ease his dick out. He tugs on it loosely, and Patrick swallows heavily, licks his lips before he can think better of it.

There's a quiet huff of laughter above him. "See something you like?"

Patrick glares up at Adam. Just for a moment, but it's enough of a distraction that he doesn't realize Adam's moved closer. Not until he looks back down and Adam's dick is right there in front of his face. A bead of moisture forms at the slit; Patrick can _smell_ it, salt-tang in the air. Adam's a fucker, but he's right: Patrick likes his dick. Fucking _loves_ it more than he cares to admit. He bites down on his lips.

"C'mon, don't be shy," Adam says, waving his dick a little, his free hand curling in Patrick's hair again. The head bumps against his chin, and Adam laughs.

Someday, Patrick thinks, he's going to beat Adam to death and he's going to enjoy every minute of it. But he still lets Adam guide his head forward, still opens his mouth to the fat head of Adam's cock. He closes his eyes as it pushes past his lips, lets himself sink into the taste, feel, and smell of Adam. Thick and heavy against his tongue, and Patrick breathes deeply through his nose, pushes forward, cheeks hollowing as he sucks.

Adam moans loudly, and Patrick gets his hands up in time to steady Adam's hips, to keep from choking as Adam stutter-thrusts. He wraps a hand around the base of Adam's dick, working it in tandem with his mouth. He likes doing this. Likes it and has gotten pretty damn good at it. It's familiar and easy and, yeah, okay. It's hot, too. Hot and _normal_ , not like jerking off all over someone's face. There's just something _humiliating_ about that, and Patrick's not sure how he feels about that. He thinks, _I'll just get him off like this. This is good._

Patrick tries to take him down further, the head of Adam's dick pushing at the back of his throat. Adam swears above him, and Patrick uses his free hand to roll Adam's balls, knuckles rubbing lightly at the tight skin behind them. He can feel Adam's cock swell, and he backs off a little, sucking at the head.

But Adam has other ideas. "No, fuck. _Wait_." He pulls out, hand curling in Patrick's hair, stopping him from moving forward.

"C'mon, just let me finish it this way."

"And let you welch on the bet? Not a chance." He's stroking himself, and Patrick wants to look away. He _wants_ to knock Adam on his ass, get up and walk away. But Adam's still talking. "Wanted to see you like this forever," he says in that same low voice from before. "On your knees, my come all over that pretty face of yours, marking you."

Patrick chokes back a moan. But he can't stop the flush that creeps up his chest and neck, coloring his cheeks. Adam's hand tightens in his hair, sparking little flashpoints of pain, and this time he can't stop the moan.

It doesn't take many strokes before Adam tilts Patrick's head back, says, "Close your eyes," in a strained voice. Patrick does, and only a second later feels the first warm splatter of Adam coming on his face. He flinches a little, gasping at the second burst, and a drop hits his lip. He laps at it and doesn't even think about it, just opens his mouth. He's rewarded with bitter-salt drops on his tongue, and by Adam's loud moan. There's a bump against his mouth, and Patrick opens wider, sucks Adam clean.

"Fuckin' look at you," Adam says. Patrick opens his eyes, blinking furiously. He reaches up to wipe at his face, and Adam is suddenly on his knees, knocking his hand away. He grabs Patrick's shoulders, leans in, and licks him. Long, slow swipes of his tongue, cleaning up the jizz, and Patrick realizes he's harder than he's ever been in his life. He reaches down, but before he can even get in a 'how you doin?' rub, Adam moves his hand out of the way. He shoves his own hand down Patrick's pants, wraps it around Patrick's dick and kisses him.

There are still traces of come on Adam's tongue; Patrick can taste it, and he moans. It's just a flash of a thought, that Adam cleaned his own come off Patrick's skin, but it's enough to shake him, grab hold of him hot and furious, and way too soon, he's spilling over Adam's hand.

As soon as he's done, they both fall to the floor, lying there for a few minutes, catching their breath. Finally, Patrick looks over. Adam's watching him, and he's got a smug smile on his face. Patrick hits him.

"Ow!" Adam sits up, rubbing at his cheek and glaring. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a smug asshole." Patrick sits up, too, and rubs at his stomach. His face itches a little from dried spit. He stands up and heads to the bathroom to wash up.

"Christ, next time I'm tying you up and gagging you."

Patrick does not stumble at those words - he very much _does not_ , and definitely not because the thought of it sends a shock of heat through him so quickly he nearly loses it again- but Adam still laughs at him as he slams the bathroom door shut. "You loved it!"

Patrick doesn't answer. He looks at himself in the mirror, tries to imagine what he looked like with Adam's come all over his face.

Okay, maybe he did like it. Just a little.


End file.
